


Second Chance

by pl2363



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pl2363/pseuds/pl2363
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz finds he can't keep running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Trick or Treat challenge being held on the LJ community tf_rare_pairing.
> 
> My prompt: Jazz/Bluestreak (trick) "Shattered Relations"
> 
> Didn't really fill the prompt. I can't help it... Bluestreak brings out the fluffy in me. ^^;
> 
> p.s. Thanks to wicked3659 for the title. <3

Sitting up, Jazz glanced down at Blaster currently sprawled over the berth, deeply recharging. This was just a tryst, and they both knew that. Jazz preferred no strings. Not just because it was easier, but because it was emotionally safer.

He quietly left Blaster's quarters and headed to his own to wash up before his shift.

"Overnight watch is so boring."

"Yeah, but it is what it is."

Jazz froze when he heard the two voices echo from an adjoining hallway. "Frag," he whispered. Normally crossing paths with his comrades wasn't that big a deal, but not in this case. With nowhere to hide, Jazz steeled himself, putting on his most casual smile as he continued walking.

Around the corner came two Praxians, Bluestreak and Smokescreen.

"Oh, hey Jazz," Smokescreen said in a friendly tone.

"What's up, you two?" Jazz replied, as he slowed to a stop in front of them.

Bluestreak's doorwings immediately lowered the moment he saw Jazz and he frowned, staring at the ground.

"Getting off from overnight guard duty on the entrance." Smokescreen glanced at Bluestreak, then back at Jazz, looking a little confused. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Leaving Blaster's quarters, right?" Bluestreak looked up, glaring at Jazz.

"Uh, I was just headed to my quarters actually," Jazz replied, guilt rippling through him at Bluestreak’s comment and dejected look.

“Sure,” Bluestreak replied, pushing past Jazz and continuing down the hall.

Smokescreen looked even more confused, then he sheepishly smiled at Jazz. “See ya,” he said before jogging after Bluestreak. “What was that all about?” he asked when he caught up him.

Frowning, Jazz watched them disappear around the next corner. He quietly turned and headed to his quarters, mentally reprimanding himself. If he’d known Bluestreak was looking for more than just a good ‘face, he wouldn’t have done what he did.

Slightly buzzed on high-grade, Bluestreak had been so adorable and flirty a couple weeks ago at a small gathering the twins threw in their room. Jazz set his better judgement aside when Blue made a move on him, and they ended up in the younger mech’s room for what had been one of the more passionate nights of interfacing he’d experienced in a long time. The moment he’d onlined the next morning, he knew he made a huge mistake, though.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Bluestreak, in fact, it was the opposite. Waking up with him curled up against his side, Jazz felt a pang inside his spark he’d not felt in a very long time. True affection and a desire for more had been too much for him to accept, though. He’d done nothing but hurt anyone he let close in the past, and Bluestreak deserved better than whatever fumbled attempts at a real relationship he might make.

Jazz stepped into his private wash rack in his quarters, and turned the sprayer on, rinsing down his frame, thoughts swirling around the mess of things he’d made. In a moment of what he fully admitted to as cowardice and stupidity, he’d flirted his way back into a familiar berth: Blaster’s. They’d been casually ‘facing since. The rumormill of the Ark turned at a fast pace, and Bluestreak knew all about it the next day. Didn’t help matters that he’d been pawing at Blaster in the lounge with a small audience of his comrades around.

Yeah. Bluestreak didn’t know it, but he really was better off without him. “I’m an idiot,” he mumbled to himself.

…

 

In charge of the command deck for the evening shift, Jazz settled into one of the chairs and casually scanned through the various feeds on Teletraan One. Hound was his second on shift for the night, busy at his console checking various emergency frequency signals. It was a nice, quiet evening for a change. The ‘Cons had been suspiciously less active over the last few weeks.

“Jazz. My office,” Prowl said as he stepped onto the command deck. “Hound, the deck is yours until Jazz returns.”

Jazz slowly rose from his seat, unsure what Prowl wanted with him. “Something up?”

“Yes, but I’d prefer to discuss it in my office.” Prowl spun on his heels and walked out of the room.

Jogging a few steps to catch up, Jazz followed his best friend. Inside Prowl’s neatly organized office, Jazz plopped down in one of the chairs and leaned back, making himself comfortable. “What’s going on?” he asked, casually smiling.

Prowl perched on the front edge of his desk, and wrapped his fingers around the edge. “This is a personal matter.”

“Wow, you pullin’ me off duty for a personal matter? Are you feeling okay? Are you actually Prowl?” Jazz teased.

“I’m currently done with my shift, and unfortunately we have no overlapping time the rest of this week, therefore--”

“I got it, Prowl,” Jazz replied, holding his hands up. “We’re busy and this is the best time. So lay it on me. What’s the issue?”

Prowl frowned. “Bluestreak.”

Jazz’s optics brightened behind his visor for a moment. They weren’t related, but Prowl had taken on mentor role with Bluestreak, and looked after him as if they were related. Praxians, what few were left, stuck together.

“What about him?” Jazz asked, trying to not sound too guilty, though, it was nearly impossible to hide the slight crack in his voice from Prowl.

Prowl’s doorwings, lowered slightly. “Did what transpire between you two have anything to do with us?”

“What? No way.” Jazz shook his head. “That was forever ago. Besides, we’re good friends now. I’m not still hung up, I promise.” That was a partial lie. They’d attempted dating eons ago and when Prowl tried to push things into more serious territory Jazz abruptly ended things. It had been partly due to his youth at the time and partly because as much as he liked Prowl, the mech could be pretty intense.

It took a long time for them to mend the hurt between them, but they both moved on and became fast friends. Though, Jazz never really let go of how badly he’d hurt Prowl, and made a conscious choice to not engage in any more serious, committed relationships. Waking up with Bluestreak, having that desire for something more with the younger mech had honestly scared the slag out of him.

Prowl looked unconvinced. “Jazz, you do know I’ve long since forgiven you, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jazz replied, half-smiling and acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I’ve also moved on. But you–” Prowl vaguely frowned as he sighed. “It’s really none of my business. I don’t mean to push the issue. I just wish you’d considered Bluestreak’s feelings beforehand.”

“Moved on?” Jazz asked, canting his head at Prowl.

A small, subtle smile curved the corners of Prowl’s lips. “Yes.”

“Holy slag, you’re seeing someone? Who?” Jazz replied, sitting up in his seat, happily changing the subject.

Prowl crossed his arms over his chest and then frowned at Jazz. “Nice try, but we’re talking about you right now.”

Jazz sighed. “What do you want me to do ‘bout Blue? I can’t take back what happened.”

“I think being truthful with him and talking to him would go a long way towards helping ease the situation,” Prowl replied.

Pouted frown on his lips, Jazz nodded. “Alright. I’ll talk to him.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Prowl replied.

Pushing to stand, Jazz sauntered toward the door, then glanced back over his shoulder at Prowl. “So who is it?”

Prowl shook his head and half-smiled. “A certain gold-painted twin.”

“Holy Primus! Really?” Jazz asked, optics bright behind his visor.

“Really.” Prowl shook his head. “Now, I believe there is a command deck missing a shift supervisor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jazz replied. He grinned at Prowl as he stepped out into the hallway. “‘Grats, Prowl.”

Rare smile on his lips, Prowl nodded. “Thank you.”

…

Having spent most of his shift trying to figure out how to talk to Bluestreak about what happened, Jazz quietly wandered through the base, mind buzzing with scenarios and how it might all end up playing out. He needed to figure out the best way to gently let Bluestreak down. In a daze he walked into the rec room, and headed for the energon dispenser, getting a serving for himself. Lifting the cube to his lips, he paused, sensing he wasn’t alone.

Glancing over his shoulder he noticed the back of a silvery-colored Praxian sitting alone at a table.

Fate? Or maybe Prowl’s doing… Either way, there was no point putting this off any longer. Jazz sauntered over to the table.

Bluestreak looked up at him, surprised. “Why are you up? It’s late.”

“Took the words right outta my mouth.” Jazz smiled. “I just got off second shift. And why are you in here so late?” he asked, taking a seat.

Shrugging a shoulder, Bluestreak stared down at his empty energon cube. “Couldn’t recharge.”

Jazz frowned. Primus, he had really made a huge mess of things. “Got things on yer mind?”

“I guess I do,” Bluestreak replied, optics dimming.

Posture sinking a little, Jazz decided to just face this head on. “Look, Blue, I never meant to hurt--”

Holding a hand up, Bluestreak shook his head. “Don’t. I let myself get carried away. I should have known better. So don’t worry about it. I just need to get over it is all and it’s taking a while.”

The miserable, sad look on Bluestreak’s face made Jazz’s spark ache. He never wanted to hurt anyone again, and yet he still had. “I promised Prowl I’d talk to you. Tell you the truth. I wanna do that. If that’s okay.”

Doorwings lowering on his back, Bluestreak frowned. “Okay.”

A one-word reply? In all the time he’d known Bluestreak, he’d never heard him utter one word like that before. Jazz sat up in his seat, resting his arms on the table as he cupped his energon with his hands. “Truth of the matter is, I like you a lot, Blue, but I’m bad when it comes to being involved beyond just ‘facing. I was trying to spare you from getting hurt over me. I guess even when I’m not in a relationship, I frag it up.” He dimmed his optics.

“Like me a lot?” Bluestreak got a sour look on his face. “You mean _like_ me as in being just your friend?”

Jazz shook his head. He then bit at his lower lip for a second, steeling himself to be completely honest. “Like you, as in I woke up thinking how nice it would be to always wake up with you in my arms.”

Bluestreak’s optics flared brightly with his surprise. “Really? You thought that?”

“Yeah. And thinking that freaked me out.” Jazz fingered his energon.

“But, if you like me like that, and I like you, then why did that freak you out?” Bluestreak looked confused, as he gazed at Jazz. “Is it ‘cause of Prowl?”

Huffing air from his intakes in frustration, Jazz frowned. “Why does everyone keep sayin’ that?”

“Everyone? Or just Prowl?” Bluestreak said, his tease apparent as he half-smiled.

Unable to help it, Jazz chuckled. “You got me. Yeah, Prowl.”

Bluestreak reached across the table, fingers lightly brushing over Jazz’s. “So, how come? If we like each other, then why don’t you want to try? You know, just see how it goes?”

Staring at Bluestreak’s fingers, Jazz sadly smiled. “‘Cause I’m no good.”

“That’s the lamest excuse ever, and I don’t think it’s even true.” Bluestreak’s doorwings perked up on his back, punctuating his statement.

“You’re a good mech, and last thing I wanna do is hurt you because I suck at commitment,” Jazz replied as he looked up at him.

“Suck at it with Prowl, maybe. Other than him, you been with anyone seriously? ‘Cause you know I love him like he’s family, but he’s downright difficult to deal with when it comes to some things, especially when it comes anything emotional. But I’m not like that. I look up to him, but I’m _not_ him,” Bluestreak replied.

“I know you’re not,” Jazz replied, fondly smiling at Bluestreak. He had such a good spark. How could he not be attracted to that light, positive nature of his?

Bluestreak sat a little more forward in his seat. “Then give me a chance. I promise you won’t be sorry. I also won’t let you frag anything up.”

“How can you keep me from being an aft?” Jazz asked, turning his hand under Bluestreak’s fingers and letting their palms press together.

“You aren’t an aft. But, I don’t hold stuff in like Prowl. You’ll always know what I’m thinking, what I want, what I need…” Bluestreak laced their fingers together. “I really like you, Jazz. Liked you for a long time. Just took some liquid courage to finally show it.”

Will crumbling under the weight of Bluestreak’s earnest words, Jazz squeezed their laced fingers together. “Long time, huh?”

“Yeah. Since the first time I saw you, actually. You burst into Prowl’s office back on Cybertron, early in the war, right after I was rescued and finally released from medbay. He was in the middle of giving me a pep-talk ‘cause I was feeling down. I felt like I wasn’t fitting in and I hated how everyone was treating me differently since they knew I’d almost died. You just walked right in, he tried to scold you, but you ignored him and dropped off some report he needed. Then you looked right at me and grinned. Prowl introduced us and without hesitation you said to me--”

“Looks like you’re having a rough day, wanna go grab some energon?” Jazz finished.

“You remember.” Bluestreak smiled brightly. “You didn’t treat me different. Eventually everyone else stopped too. I like to think it was because of you.”

Jazz felt that pang in his spark turn into a light flutter. “Blue...”

Optics bright, Bluestreak stared at him. “I know, I’m younger than you and I tend to get carried away easily, but I think we'd be good together.”

Heaving a sigh, Jazz smiled at Bluestreak. “Alright. We can try this whole relationship thing.”

Bluestreak’s wings perked up as he brightly smiled. “Jazz, you won’t regret it.” Jumping out of his seat, Bluestreak leaned over the table, nearly knocking the energon to the floor as he grabbed one of his audio horns and pulled him into a soft-mouthed kiss.

As the lovely kiss ended, Jazz stared into his pretty optics, dazed and enjoying the soft fluttering of his spark.

“No regrets, here, I promise,” Jazz replied.


End file.
